


After A Mission

by nerdqueenenterprise



Series: Kisses - Chril Edition [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, PWP, that's it it's just porn, there's ... nothing else here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 13:04:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11669679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdqueenenterprise/pseuds/nerdqueenenterprise
Summary: For the Kiss Meme -  Prompt two "one small kiss, pulling away, then devouring each other"This accidentally turned into porn.





	After A Mission

Phil locks the door behind them and immediately the tension between them fills the room with a steady crackle of almost-palpable static.

    “So,” he says, grinning a bit predatorily.

Chris makes sure to keep his back soft and give off an air of nonchalance.

    “So. I see you still believe in absolute precision and making your quarters about as welcoming as an operating room.” He draws a finger over the framed paper picture of the command chain of the _Yorktown._ “And you dust regularly.”

    “We could’ve gone to your quarters, but you were the impatient bastard who couldn’t wait any longer,” Phil replies with a definite edge to his voice. “Also I could remind you that you were only gone a month.”

Chris turns around to him and regales him with his best ‘deliberating captain’-look. “Thirty-three days to be exact.”

    “Thirty-three days,” Phil acquiesces. His heart is beating far too fast for him to maintain his exterior calm that much longer.

    “How’s my ship?”

    “If you cared about that, wouldn’t you have gone with Number One?”

Chris meanders - meanders, for God’s sake - up close to Phil and picks at a stray piece of lint on his uniform. “Oh, I suppose, yes. How is the crew’s health, then?”

Phil wants to slap him so hard, wipe that stupid, stupid barely hidden smirk off his face, shove him against a wall and kiss him until they both pass out from lack of oxygen.

    “They’re fine. Some of them however have been feeling a tad … neglected recently.”

    “Is that so?” The mirth sparkling in Chris’ grey eyes is close to making him break out into a huge grin. He lifts a hand to press gently against Phil’s jaw, and for a moment the _Yorktown_ ’s CMO lets himself fall into that touch. It was a high risk, single person mission Chris had been on for the past month, and he’d almost missed their rendezvous point, and Phil was very, very glad to have him back onboard, surprisingly unhurt. A thumb strokes gently along his cheek and Phil opens his eyes again to find Chris looking at him with a soft smile.

    “Hey, I missed you too,” he says softly. “A shuttle is even colder when you don’t have anyone to snuggle with.”

Chris steps even closer and his other hand finds its place at Phil’s waist, fingers curling into the fabric like they belong there.

The kiss he presses to Phil’s lips is gentle, feathery, almost not there at all, and Phil closes his eyes and lets himself fall into the soft brush of their lips.

They break apart for moments, slate grey eyes meeting their lighter counterparts, before Phil bodily shoves Chris backwards, stepping after him to kiss him again, harder, nudging his lips open while tearing at his clothes. Chris laughs into the kiss and then moans as they manage to tilt their heads to the perfect angle. He’s fumbling with Phil’s shirt as his lover is with his, and they’ll have to separate soon to take them off, but God, Phil tastes so good.

    “Fuck,” Phil breathes into his mouth, eloquent as always, and Chris can only moan his agreement, ripping his shirt off, distinctly aware of Phil doing the same thing, and then he’s shoved backwards into a table, the sharp edge surely going to leave one hell of a bruise.

Phil shoves him up on it and descends on his mouth with the single-minded vigor of a man who’s had a bit too much company of his left hand and a bit too little of the beauty in front of him.

Chris is pliant under Phil’s hands, opening his legs to welcome him in, hooking his legs around Phil’s hips and gasping into his touch.

 

They spend a good couple minutes mindlessly grinding against each other, gasping out moans and curses between kisses.

Finally, Chris works a hand between their bodies and presses down against the bulge in Phil’s pants and Phil growls.

    “Unless you want me to bend you over that table I suggest you stop that.”

Chris extracts himself a bit from their kiss and grins up at Phil with dilated pupils and swollen lips. Phil swallows thickly and for a moment the universe stands still.

Then Chris very slowly and very deliberately squeezes Phil.

Phil yanks him forward and kisses him again, harsh, twisting Chris around and slamming him on top of the table. A few PADDs clatter onto the floor, unheeded. Chris whines appreciatively, wiggling his ass against Phil, who pushes back, pressing a hand between Chris’ shoulderblades to hold him down. Chris goes lax against the table.

    “I’m gonna fuck you against this table until you scream,” he growls into Chris’ ear, reveling in the shuddering sigh that escapes his lover’s lips. “ And then I’m going to take you to bed and take you _apart_ , until you start crying. You’re not going to walk tomorrow, _captain_.”

Chris gasps out a high, needy sound and opens his legs further, pushing his bottom out.

Phil takes the skin at the nape of Chris’ neck between his teeth and bites down, making him stay over the table while his hands wander down to his lover’s hips, undoing his pants and then ripping them down in a single, fluid movement.

The hickey contrasts the pale skin of Chris’ back nicely, Phil decides, and makes a second one opposite the first, drawing it out until Chris is gasping out little shuddering breaths.

    “Don’t move,” he warns, drawing away.

Chris twists his head to follow Phil with looks as the other saunters over to the bedside table, fingers deliberating over the selection of different lubes they have, before choosing one and returning to Chris.

Chris gives a slow roll of his hips, eyes fixed on Phil. He’s rewarded with a slap on his ass and then two skilled fingers already lubed up press against his hole.

    “Mmm, yesss, Phil, come on.”

    “You are so fucking mouthy, Christopher.”

Chris makes to respond but Phil pushes in and whatever he wanted to say turns into a very high pitched whine instead.

    “Gonna make you feel it, baby,” Phil growls, scissoring his fingers, dragging them right over Chris’ prostate again and again, watching his lover convulse under him.

Once Chris’ gasps have turned into breathy little _please_ 's, he adds a third finger with another generous amount of lube and watches as Chris whimpers and shudders and begs with each stroke of Phil’s fingers.

    “‘m ready, please, please, Phil, please, God, please, fuck me, ‘m ready, so ready, please…”

Phil strokes a gentle hand over Chris’ back. “You sure, beautiful?”

    “God, yes, please, Phil, please, I need you.”

Phil wastes no time tearing his pants open, sighing at the relief of pressure on his dick, and then slicking himself up and pressing the head against Chris’ entrance. They should slow down, savour their time together, take it slow, but damn, all Phil can think about is pushing inside that tight heat.

Chris groans as he’s being penetrated, clenching down on instinct, and it makes Phil thrust his hips forward and bury himself inside Chris, sobbing his relief against his lover’s back while Chris is fighting for breath.

    “Feel so fucking good, Chris, God, I missed this, missed you, so much, so much baby, fuck, fuck, missed you baby.”

Chris lets his forehead thunk against the table and whimpers. “Please…”

And Phil delivers, fucking him almost through the table, littering bites over Chris’ back until his lover is begging to go harder, faster, please, Phil, please, oh yes, right there, right there, Phil yes, yes, yes -

Chris comes with a shout, banging his head onto the table again, and really, Phil would be worried, but he’s so close he can taste it, with Chris clenching around him and -

Phil comes gasping his lover’s name into his hair, shaking around him.

They spend a few moments simply catching their breath again, and then Chris gives a gentle wiggle.

    “Gonna let me up sometime soon?” he asks playfully.

Phil exhales heavily and pushes himself up, slipping out of his lover’s well used entrance.

    “Bed,” he mutters, and they both stumble over, somehow not falling on their faces over their pants.

They strip properly and slip under the covers, already turning for maximal physical contact.

    “Nap?” Chris asks. “And more sex afterwards?”

Phil grins and kisses him on the temple.

    “ _Hell_ yes.”

 

Phil was right. Chris can barely move the next morning, and sitting is even worse. Plus, he’s running on far too little sleep and far too much sexual exhaustion. Luckily he only has one eight hour shift and one two and a half hour debrief with the Admirality to sit through.

Phil laughs, of course, the stupid bastard, but guess who’s not gonna get laid anytime soon?

… well, certainly not Phil. Damn him and his stupid persuasion abilities.

**Author's Note:**

> so... the kiss meme... i'll be writing 46 more chril fics for it. guess i'm in this dumpster for good now :P thank you for reading!


End file.
